


Pallbearer

by argylsocks



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Battle, Brothers, Character Death, Gen, Hallucinations, Odinsons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argylsocks/pseuds/argylsocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki joins his fellow Aesir in battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pallbearer

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, unedited. Banged out in a short while because I could not get the last part out of my mind.  
> Also: I am a bad, bad person.

No matter how many times he fought, no matter how much he craved the battle, no matter how hard the Aesir fought, Thor inevitably always tired of its taste.

It always, always tasted bitter in the end. Of smoke, of blood, of loss.

Maybe it was because they always lost some treasured ally or maybe he grew tired of the creaking of his bones and stretching of his muscles after his bloodlust finally ran cold. Of course, the fatigue would wear out, once he had rested and taken his fill of food and drink in the banquet hall.

But for now, he awaited the end of the battle that came with either the decimation or surrender of their foe.

He wanted the taste out of his mouth, replaced with something better.

  


When he found himself again, Mjolnir was lodged deep within the chest of a long-fallen opponent, her once gleaming metal hidden completely beneath streaks and smears of dirt and blood.

Panting heavily, he removed her, absently shaking what blood could off as he took in his surroundings.

Deep forest. Silent. Dark. Nowhere near where he’d last seen his fellow warriors battling.

And Loki. He remembered, before they had set out for this campaign, the warriors’ agreement that given the ferocity of their impending enemy, Loki’s tricks (magic, he forced himself to think) would be direly needed. Loki had been dismissive of their request, agreeing to aid them in that derisive way of his, but when the delegation had left and Loki thought he was alone once more, Thor had caught him with a silent, slight celebration.

While not his first battle, it would be the first of many a year for his younger brother who preferred to look down upon most campaigns his countrymen undertook.

Loki. He had run off somewhere, chasing down a hostile sorcerer. Thor gave chase but lost him to the assault of a foot soldier.

Thor rose, determined to find his brother and without a clue as to where he was; after half a moment’s deliberation, he set out in a random direction.

  


He found him half submerged in a shallow creek, the dirt and grass around him disturbed from when he had struggled to pull himself out of the water only to submit to what must have been incredible fatigue halfway.

He tried not to look at the mud that was just off-color. Or the bright red grass where he lay.

Or how, even now, as he knelt in the mud next to Loki, his brother’s body was still.

Mjolnir forgotten, he tried to be as gentle as he could to turn him over, unable to think of he’d last been so joyous when he felt the warmth of Loki’s body beneath the chill the water had left. Scanning over his front revealed minor wounds, trifles that could be easily healed back at camp.

When he looked back at Loki’s face, he saw tired, lidded, unfocused green eyes over a condescending smirk. He saw his brother, slightly mangled but alive.

“Thor…you idiot.” Loki’s voice was horse and what energy he had seemed to disappear as soon as he spoke because he closed his eyes and groaned softly.

Thor chuckled, all worries laid to rest when he heard the familiar epithet. “Worry not, brother. I shall have you back at camp in no time; you can rest and be healed there.” When no answer came, he took that as approval and lifted his brother’s slight frame, supporting him so that he could claim to walk by himself to defend his pride even though Thor was more or less dragging him along. Arm braced across Loki’s back, Thor noticed that he was wounded there, too, probably blasted by a spell when his attention laid elsewhere.

It was only when they started back the way Thor came, Mjolnir strapped to his waist, that Loki spoke.

“You dolt…leave me, Thor. Just…don’t…” The rest was lost to struggling, shallow breaths.

Thor chugged along blissfully, making steady progress back through the underbrush he’d come through. “Do not worry, Loki. Eir will make sure your recovery goes smoothly.” A light scoff and a shudder before he saw Loki go limp again out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll be right back to your tricks and books in no time.”

Their conversation through the journey back to camp—across wide rivers and fields, always towards the ever-increasing sound of victorious Aesir ballads—was limited to Thor’s encouraging comments about the upcoming celebration. “You’ll be seen as a hero this time round. An entire boar, just for you. Oh, but you like the smaller dishes, the cakes and sweetbreads. No matter. You’ll have songs in your honor, instead of the gossips’ rumors.”

  


They crashed into camp near the bonfire, Thor laughing jovially and Loki as silent as ever. Their interruption had made the nearby warriors jump for their weapons, only to lower them as they realized who caused the disturbance, eyes widened as the pair walked past them towards the large tent marked as the healers’.

“Ho! My brother requires a healer!” he yelled as he squatted to let Loki slide gently off his shoulder onto the waiting bed.

Sighing heavily, he turned to look at Loki.

He wondered how long he had been carrying a dead body.


End file.
